Losers
by Power of the Pen12
Summary: Eight years ago, Edward gave in to the temptation and bit new student Bella Swan before the two could fall in love. She now lives a pointless existence, forced to live with the monsters she hates more than anything else; the Cullens.
1. Chapter 1

I walk down the stairs, preparing myself for the expected tidal wave of guilt and pain.

There she sits, still as stone, in an armchair by the piano. God, she is beautiful.

Her fine features are calm and impassive, but Bella never could hide her emotions that well. Her golden eyes are full of sadness and anger. Someday, I will make it up to her.

"Good morning," I greet her in a low voice. She turns, fixing me with her hateful stare.

"I wouldn't say that," she mutters, and I hear the waver in her voice. She winces; obviously, Bella had meant for the words to be as cutting and cold as Rosalie's usually are.

I take a seat by her, feeling a thousand knives pierce my dead, still heart as she turns away, her shoulders hunched. I am a monster for doing this to her.

"I'm hunting today," Bella says, and I can barely see her face; her long, lovely hair hangs in a sheet over her features. I can still remember that fateful day, when young Isabella Swan brushed her hair behind one ear, sending her irresistible scent my way. I can still remember luring her away from school, out into the forest where no one would hear her scream. I can still remember Emmett and Jasper, yelling in horror and pulling me from my prey, ripping my snarling mouth from Bella's mangled neck. But the damage had been done.

"There are mountain lions not too far from here," I say quietly. She turns to me in one quick movement, her mouth twisted in a cruel smile.

"But I don't like mountain lions," she hisses. I feel my stomach plummet.

"Well, what do you like?" I whisper, knowing the answer.

"I like humans," she answers, though I know it disgusts her to say the words. She would do anything to hurt me, anything to anger my family. She leans towards me when she says the words, her eyes fixed on the half moon scar on my left forearm; a mark of Bella's first day.

"Bella, please," I plead, reaching for her hand. She twists my digits for a moment before pulling away.

"What does it matter to you?" she cries, a dry sob interrupting the words halfway through. "Vampires don't care about human families! Even your blasted 'family'; if you slip up once and a while, who really cares? You'd murder a child if it annoyed your sister, wouldn't you?"

I shake my head, wishing I could give Bella back her humanity. It would have been kinder if I had killed her; but stopping halfway, leaving Bella to moan in agony for days, was monstrous.

"I know you won't," I say quietly, and I can see the fire flare in her eyes. "You're not that kind of person, Bella. You would never kill humans. You've threatened this before. But you always come back, your record still clean."

"Maybe I won't come back!"

I sigh, rubbing my temples with two fingers. Sometimes I wish Bella would leave; then she might find a life that suited her, find vampires to take her in. She would be free of her worst enemy; me.

But then again, I need her.

I don't know how it happened. I couldn't hear her thoughts, I didn't even talk to her; Bella Swan had just been an unusually fragrant human. But after I committed the deed that would haunt me for eternity, that would practically drive me to the Volturi's doorstep, I fell for the girl I had damned.

She was fantastic; everything I had ever wanted. Maybe wanted wasn't the right word; needed, more like. Though Bella kept her every secret and emotion bottled up, I managed to gather enough information about her to know that she was incredibly funny, smart, and tender.

"Maybe," I admit, continuing the testy conversation. She squints at me.

"Would you let me go?"

There's no need to consider this question. I could never let Bella leave my life entirely; it would be like removing a vital organ from my body, without trying to stop the bleeding.

I stay silent. She growls.

Bella rises from her chair. "I'm going," she says, and I can see the defiance in her eyes. A chill of terror floods my body. Would she really leave for good this time? Bella would surely be caught on her own; she didn't care enough to be secretive. Her own life meant nothing to her. I had taken away her will to live, and yet she still couldn't bring herself to end what little life she still possessed.

I catch her wrist as she turns to leave. She looks at me, surprised.

Our eyes lock; I search the black depths of her irises. She looks torn. Her passionate hatred for my family goes without question; yet we supply her with a place to stay, show her the best animal hunting grounds, and care for her, no matter what she feels towards us in return.

"Let go," she says quietly. Her icy voice cuts through me, and I can still remember when that voice rang with innocence. I drop her wrist.

She's out the door in a second, and before I know it, I follow. It's like there's a chain strapped to my arm, the other end attached to Bella's. I'm her slave.

She turns, and I can see the twisted sadness on her face. It's a pity vampires can't cry; it would help release our pain.

There's no need for words. The look Bella gives me tells me all I need to know. Her eyes burn with a passion to be free; she thinks me her captor. I put her through unthinkable pain, turn her into a hideous (beautiful externally, perhaps) monster, and keep her under lock and key. Though she is free to walk out the front door, free to roam across the lands, she knows I cannot let her go completely.

She runs. I stay rooted to the spot, feeling the invisible chain stretch, almost forcing me forward. She is not next to me; I cannot protect her. This thought pounds through my skull, and I feel the familiar knot of fear in my stomach. How it terrifies me to be away from her.

Eight years ago, I took away everything a young girl had, and paid for it with my eternal life. Every day, the familiar routine greets me with a sinister smile. One day, maybe not today, but someday, Bella will crack, and leave the Cullens forever. I live in terror, waiting for that day to pass.

So I retreat back into the dark house, draping myself across a couch. I can still taste the sweet blood on my tongue; can still feel the hot liquid, quenching the thirst that had penetrated my throat for a hundred years. Four mouthfuls. That's how much I took from Bella before my brothers tore me away. Those four sweet, long drinks cost me many things; my father's trust, my self respect, my clean record, and my freedom. Even though no one would drag me back if I ran, I could never leave Bella.

And now I lie in a dark room, knowing that infinite years of misery lie ahead if Bella returns; and infinite years of pain lie ahead if Bella leaves for good. And if I drag Bella back, forcing her to live with the demon that cursed her with this meaningless existence, she will be tortured and I will be guilty and selfish. No one wins; there are only losers in this messed up slice of forever that I seemed to have created.


	2. Chapter 2

I curl upon the worn armchair, wishing for sleep.

It is so cruel that I'm forced to endure this life 24/7.

A glint of sunlight reflects off an ivory piano key next to me; it mirrors the shade of Edward's skin, as enticing as he is.

I imagine tearing the ivory piece from the instrument, shattering the lovely rectangle upon the floor. How dare it be so beautiful while I suffer like this?

I hear him on the stairs. The sound is as loud as a jackhammer on my overly sensitive ears. If it is possible for my back to get any stiffer, it does, though the flesh is already as taught as marble. His natural perfume wafts into my nose. I try to be as still as the others can, but I can't hide my pain that easily.

"Good morning," he murmurs. My temper bursts into flames, and the urge to leap at the man sitting next to me becomes unbearable.

"I wouldn't say that," I mutter. My voice wavers, ruining the cold shoulder effect. How come I couldn't be so awfully icy like my monstrosity of a sister, Rosalie?

He sits next to me, and I can't help but to recoil. Edward knows how much I loathe him. Why must he try and make amends? It's like trying to fix an egg that has dropped on the floor.

"I'm going hunting today," I say, hoping this might crack his calm. I hang my head, letting my mane of perfect hair drop in front of my face. I can still remember the day Edward changed me; led me away from school, convincing me it was healthy to ditch once in a while. His perfect voice and kind face had been irresistible. I can still remember standing stock still in the woods, staring in horror at Edward's distraught face. It was like seeing an angel change into the devil. He had growled; it had shaken me to the core, and I had frozen, unable to take a step. Edward had lunged, and I remember crying out, unable to believe what the angelic boy was doing to me. I remember dimly his freak brothers tearing him off of me, while I writhed and screamed in pain. I remember the two brothers comforting Edward, telling him not to be ashamed of killing one girl after so many years.

"There are mountain lions not too far from here," he murmurs, and I twist to face him, smiling cruelly. At least, I hope it looks cruel.

"But I don't like mountain lions," I hiss, relishing the look on Edward's face. To an unobservant person, Edward's features might look the same as they had two minutes ago; but I saw the slight tightening of his eyes, heard the miniscule breath he exhaled out his nose.

"Well, what do you like?" Edward asks, and I lean towards him in the slightest, my eyes fixed on the small half moon scar on his left forearm. How sweet it had been, on that first long day of my new life, to jump onto Edward, snarling, ravaging his arm in any way I could.

"I like humans," I tell him, but the words drip like poison from my lips, scorching my tongue as I force myself to speak. As if I could ever, ever hurt a person; a person with a normal, real, wonderful life; a person who drinks water and not blood.

"Bella, please," he pleads, taking my hand in his. I twist his fingers before forcing him away, disgusted. "What does it matter to you?" I yell, feeling the dry sob distort my sentence halfway through. "Vampires don't care about human families! Even your blasted 'family'; if you slip up once and a while, who really cares? You'd murder a child if it annoyed your sister, wouldn't you?"

He shakes his head, but I know it is true. Jasper told me he had been considering killing me just to put Alice out of her misery; for some reason, Jasper had thought this information would help me to understand that the Cullens were a truly compassionate bunch.

"I know you won't," he says quietly, and I feel my eyes burn. "You're not that kind of person, Bella. You would never kill humans. You've threatened this before. But you always come back, your record still clean."

I almost scream. Edward doesn't know how hard it is for me; every day I sneak down into Forks, practically stalking whichever human I see first. Though the thirst is unbearable, I cannot let it overcome me; I know that the person's family would be heartbroken, and I couldn't live with myself. But I'd do anything to hurt the perfect, demonic family that I'm forced to live with.

"Maybe I won't come back!"

It was my last hope, a feeble attempt to pierce the indifference always covering Edward's face. I know he loves me. I figured it out years ago. I hear him muttering to his 'mother' and 'father', telling them how worried he is about me as if I was his daughter. I catch his loving gazes, only to snort and turn away, trying to discourage the unhealthy, sick attraction.

He sits there, rubbing his temples and sighing quietly. He looks like a man trying to explain a simple concept to a stubborn child. That's all I am to him; a hysterical infant picking at his nerves, while he remains the brave martyr for even trying to be with me.

"Maybe," he mutters. We've had this conversation every day for the past eight years. I always hope he would answer differently to my next question, but he never does.

"Would you let me go?"

His eyes become hard, and I have my answer. No, he could never let me go. Edward was stronger than me, and had quite a few brothers and sisters that would help him track me down.

I growl, and rise from my chair. There are two big indents in the fabric; the places where I grip the armrests every day. "I'm leaving," I announce. I feel his stone fingers close around my wrist. That's right, slap on the handcuffs, warden. Make me your prisoner.

He searches my eyes, searches for a window into my closed mind. I wonder if this time I will actually leave for good; every moment spent in this house is a nightmare. But the Cullens provide me with a place to stay, and a 'family' that will care for me and help me, no matter how much I loathe them in return.

"Let go," I command, and he does, though he looks reluctant. I'm out the door in less than a second. He follows like a lapdog, unwilling to let me out of his sight. How I hate him.

I turn to face him, knowing my eyes show all of my bare emotions. He searches my face, anguished and miserable. Though a normal person would pity him, I feel like laughing. Poor Edward, pining for his unrequited love. His unrequited love that he turned into a monster by sucking the blood out of her neck, forcing her into the worst life possible.

He will never let me go. I see that in his face. No matter how far I run, he will follow, and he has all eternity to track me down. He will have his way, no matter what I want. Though if I run fast, I will have at least a week free of the Cullen family.

So I run. I fly through the trees, feeling the rough foliage against my bare feet. I wonder if he's following, and I spare a glance behind me. There is nothing; Edward suspects nothing. Or, if he does, then he's shown some decency, and has given up the role of jail keeper.

I've done this once before. Edward wasn't home; he had gone hunting in the mountains with his brothers. I was being 'watched' by one of his freak sisters; Rosalie.

_Flashback:_

_I sit, stony faced, in my usual leather armchair. The uncanny thirst fills my brain with horrific needs; but I control them. It's only been three months since I was a normal, happy human. I will not ruin a human's life; the world does not need any more of my kind. _

"_Do you want to hunt?" Rosalie asks, looking quite bored with her babysitting job._

"_No," I say stoutly, letting the word drip from my still lips. Rosalie sighs._

"_Listen, if I don't keep you happy, Edward will get really pissed off! So can you at least try to cheer up?"_

_Flames of anger lick at my throat, mingling with the dry burn of thirst. "Heaven _forbid_ Edward gets pissed off," I sneer, and walk solidly from the room. Rosalie follows, grabbing one of my shoulders._

"_Bella, the first year's hard, I get it. But can you be a bit more mature about it?"_

"_Why should I?" I answer numbly. Rosalie rolls her eyes. _

"_Because you're stuck with this life, whether you like it or not. You're part of the family." _

"_Rosalie, back off," I say softly, forcing as much steel as possible into the five syllables. "I will never be part of your family."_

"_Bella, who else will take you in?" she says sourly._

"_NO ONE!" I scream. I'm not really that angry, but the look on Rosalie's face is priceless. "NO ONE WILL TAKE ME IN NOW! YOUR BASTARD BROTHER MADE SURE OF THAT!"_

"_Bella, calm down," Rosalie says angrily. But I don't want to calm down._

"_MAKE ME!" _

"_You're being childish."_

"_I am a child."_

"_Listen to me, Isabella Swan!" Rosalie's commanding voice makes me flinch. "We've all gone through this phase, we all know how hard this is for you! We are just trying to HELP you. I don't get why you hate us."_

"_I don't know, maybe because you turned me into a monster, like you?" I spit. The golden liquid in Rosalie's eyes seems to solidify._

_Rosalie just stares at me; of course, how do you respond to a statement like that? I try to move around her, but Rosalie catches my hand._

"_We're being real generous, dealing with all these little fits of anger," Rosalie says quietly. "I've seen others go through this stage, but none go through it like you do. Keep your temper in check or I might stop being so hospitable."_

_I spit in her face. Rosalie growls and shrieks, "Ugh! I've had ENOUGH! Get OUT!"_

"_Gladly," I say sweetly, and race out the door as fast as I possibly can. And that's fast._

_End Flashback_

My freedom was short lived; Rosalie found me sobbing miles from the house, and dragged me back, kicking and screaming. I bit her in more than one place, but she manages to cover the bites fairly well. Only Emmett knows how I ravaged his wife's stupid perfect body; he's seen every inch of it.

This time, I wouldn't stop for anything. Edward better be ready to run.


End file.
